


Good Intentions Gone Astray

by Wolfsbride



Series: Joe Flacco/Justin Tucker [2]
Category: National Football League RPF
Genre: Baltimore Ravens, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 19:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3332408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has only the best of intentions. He fucks up anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Good Intentions Gone Astray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CoyoteGrin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoyoteGrin/gifts).



> For CoyoteGrin who has had a horrible, terrible, no good day. I hope this helps.

John has always considered himself to be a hands-on coach, even back when he was coaching college football. Some coaches liked to lord from above, issuing orders, and then insults when orders failed. That wasn’t his style. Had never been and he hoped would never be.

No. He liked to make friends with whatever team he was coaching. He liked to develop a rapport; give the players a reason to want to do well, not just because he told them to do well. He cared about his guys, each and every one of them. Knew their quirks, their weakness, and their strengths. 

It wasn’t any different with is current team, which was why he noticed right away when Tucker started behaving differently towards Joe. It wasn’t that Tucker had been mean to Joe before. None of his guys were mean to Joe; they just didn’t include him like they did their other team mates. Joe was an acquired taste.

So when he saw how Joe was gravitating towards Tucker – waiting behind for him in the locker room; hanging back after practice so they could leave the field together, walking so close together that their hands were constantly touching – and the way Tucker was responding, all shy smiles and blushes, he decided he needed to investigate the matter.

To that end, he issued Tucker a dinner invitation. He was surprised and, he had to admit, a bit confused when Tucker immediately asked if Joe could come along. Any other time, John would have been quite happy to have his quarterback over; however, Joe’s presence would definitely interfere with his interrogation. He hated to lie to Tucker, but in this one instance it was necessary. 

He rattled off some babble about needing to talk to Tucker about confidential issues and that’s why he had to come alone. He had to push the point a little harder than he had anticipated because Tucker felt that Joe could be trusted to just wait in the other room while they had their secret meeting. When John finally convinced Tucker and hung up, he felt like scum. He resolved to cook Tucker the best damn dinner to make up for his deception.

~*~*~*~*~*~

“So, Boss, what’s up?” Tucker asked, putting down his fork after chasing the last of his dessert around his plate. “You’ve fed me all my favourite foods; plied me with my favourite beer, and I swear to god that pie was almost the same as one my mom used to make. Whatever you want to talk to me about must be pretty damn serious.”

John, who was in the middle of clearing the table, nearly dropped the plates he’d just picked up. One of the side effects of getting to know his guys is that they got to know him pretty well in return. “Um. That’s probably because it’s your mom’s recipe.” He figured he might as well start coming clean about the whole evening. He rushed off to the kitchen before Tucker could respond.

Resisting the urge to hide out in the kitchen, John quickly loaded the dish washer and then got a couple more beers out of the fridge. He hoped Tucker wouldn’t be too mad. When he left the kitchen, he saw that Tucker had gotten up from the dining room table. He found him in the living room, tucked into one of John’s fluffy chairs. John gave one beer to Tucker, and then took a seat on the couch opposite him. 

“So.” Tucker looked at John and frowned. “Am I being traded?” 

John blinked, and then realized that it wasn’t a bad assumption given the way he’d played it out. He groaned. He really sucked at this cloak and dagger shit. He shook his head. “No and I’m sorry. I should have just been up front about why I was asking you over in the first place.”

“Yeah? Why _am_ I here, Boss? Not that I mind hanging out, just you’re usually not so mysterious.”

John coughed. “Far be it from me to pry into my team’s personal lives but I couldn’t help noticing that you and Joe seem to be... closer than usual.” 

Tucker’s brows rose. “Yeah, so? Wait. You’re not like...” Tucker’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Homophobic, are you?” Tucker looked horrified.

“Oh my God, no! I don’t care who you want to date!” This was almost as awkward as the mythical sex talk.

Now Tucker just looked confused. “Then, what’s the problem?”

“So you _are_ dating?”

“Yes? And?” Tucker had gone from confused to impatient.

John sighed. “Look, I’ll just cut to the chase.”

“Please do.” Tucker said, with a huff.

“Right.” Leaning forward, John looked Tucker in the eye. “What are you intentions toward Joe?” 

Tucker blinked. Then he started to giggle. He barely managed to put his beer on the little table by his chair before curling up and laughing like a loon. 

John leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest, his own drink long forgotten on the floor. He glared when Tucker showed no signs of ending his mirth. “Answer the question, damn it.”

Gasping, Tucker waved his hand at John. “Sorry. Sorry. Oh my God. My intentions!” The word sent Tucker off on another giggle fest. “You... You sound... You sound like Joe is some southern belle.” Tucker finally managed to say. 

When John continued to glare and didn’t even hint at a smile, Tucker took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He sat up, and faced John, feet planted firmly on the floor, hands flat on his knees. “Not sure why you’re all concerned about Joe’s virtue, and I’m not sure what you mean by my _intentions_. Bit too early for thinking about marriage.”

“I’m more concerned about his feelings than his virtue, Tucker!”

“What that’s supposed to mean? I have no idea what you want me to say, John!”

John couldn’t help flinching. It’d been a long time since Tucker has called him John. 

Sighing, John rubbed a hand over his face; the other lowered and curled by his hip. “Look, we all know what Joe is like. It just seems... odd... that the two of you are suddenly inseparable, apparently.” John focused on Tucker. “Tell me you’re not playing him.”

Tucker’s eyes widened. He got to his feet and stared down at John, hands clenched at his sides. “That’s pretty fucking insulting to Joe! What? You think no one would be interested in him? You think he’s _boring_ just like everyone else?”

“That’s not what I meant!” Only it really was, and as he looked up at Tucker, John was ashamed of himself. He thought about standing as well, but decided against it. Tucker would probably interpret it as more confrontation, and he was angry enough as it was. 

“Sure it’s not, John! You know, the only reason I’m not punching you in the mouth, right now, is because you do actually have Joe’s interests at heart. Asshole way of showing it though. I’m out of here.”

With that Tucker stormed out of the living room and down the hall to the closet in the foyer. John could hear him getting his coat and presumably putting on his shoes. A few seconds later the door opened, and then slammed shut. 

“Well, fuck me.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

John wandered around after Tucker had left, slowly tidying up the odds and ends from their dinner. He couldn’t believe how horribly he’d handled that. He’d have to get Tucker alone again so that he could talk to him about what had happened. He didn’t imagine the young man would make it easy on him. And he was right not to. 

He’d leapt to the wrong conclusion simply because he figured Tucker had the same perception of Joe that everyone else had. He owed them both an apology. He wondered if Tucker would be willing to talk to him if Joe was present. He’d have to see how tomorrow went. 

He thought briefly about sleep, but knew from experience that his brain would never let him rest with this on his mind. So he dropped down on to his couch and turned on the TV, looking for something that might distract him. He settled on some action movie that looked like it would be all blood and explosions.

A double feature later, it was slightly after midnight and John levered himself up, with the intention of finally going to bed. His mind was still circling the issue but he was exhausted enough that he thought he just _might_ fall asleep. As he headed out of the living room and towards the stairs, he had to make a detour to the front door. His door bell was chiming incessantly. Wrenching open the door, he stared at the person who was standing on his front step.

“Hello, John. May I come in?” 

His quarterback looked like it was a normal thing to visit your coach after midnight. 

“Uh. Sure, Joe.” He stepped aside to let Joe in, and then closed the door behind him.

Following Joe to his living room, John watched as Joe picked the same chair Tucker had sat in earlier, only he perched on the very edge, looking like he might take flight, if John did or said the wrong thing. He was probably projecting. “Um. So. Why the late night visit?”

“You are planning to apologize to Tucker, right?” Joe said, looking up at John solemnly. 

“He told you?”

“Of course he told me. We talk about everything.” Joe looked puzzled that John was even asking that question.

“Huh. Well good for you two. And yeah, I’m going to apologize. I mean. If he’ll let me. He was pretty angry.”

The smile that graced Joe’s face was eye opening. It totally changed Joe’s staid features. It was like he was lit up from the inside. He glowed. When Joe blushed and ducked his head, muttering. “He takes good care of me.” John felt lower than low. He sat down on the couch so that Joe didn’t have to keep craning his neck. 

“I owe you an apology too, Joe. It was horrible of me to assume that the only reason Tucker would be with you is because he was playing a prank.” 

Joe shrugged. “I know you meant well and you weren’t thinking anything more than what anyone else would have thought. I mean, half the time, _I_ can hardly believe Tucker is with me. You really hurt him, though. He can’t believe you would think he was capable of pulling something like that.” 

“Shit. I didn’t think it through. I just... I didn’t want you to get hurt, is all.”

“I know. That’s why I’m not – as Tucker said – punching you in the mouth. I just want Tucker to smile again. He’s so sad right now. I don’t like that.”

John stared at Joe, who was looking back at him so earnestly, it was painful. Before today, he would never have been able to picture Tucker and Joe working out. Tucker was a whirlwind of energy, sometimes reminding him of the Warner’s Tasmanian devil and Joe was... Joe. But clearly that was enough for both of them. 

Getting up, John moved from the couch to stand in front of Joe’s chair. He reached down and pulled him to his feet, and then into a tight hug. “I’m glad you have each other.”

Joe hugged John back. “Me too. He makes my life fun.”

John couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll bet he does.” He gave Joe a squeeze, and then let him go, patting his shoulder before moving back. “If you can get him to come to dinner again tomorrow night, I’ll apologize then. I’ll even let him punch me. I deserve it for thinking that way about you and him. You’re a good guy, Joe. Tucker’s lucky to have you.”

Joe blushed again. “Thanks, Coach. We’ll see you tomorrow night.” Joe got up and walked with John back to the foyer. Opening the door, he paused before stepping out into the night. “He really liked the food. If you want to put him in a good mood.” Joe grinned, and then left.

As John closed the door, he made a note to call Tucker’s mom for more recipes.


End file.
